Moments
by PearlQ19
Summary: A series of oneshots between any two characters on the island. Sixth chapter up, more to come. Stories may be set at any time in the show. Please RR...
1. Kate and Sayid

_A/N: Now I'm finally starting my LOST project, which I've had in mind for ages… This is the beginning of a series of one-shots, each focusing on any two characters – preferably characters who haven't had much to do with each other before; that depends on the topics. Stries may be set at any time in the show, meaning that dead characters might well be included.  
The usual "non-native speaker" warning applies – if you spot any mistakes, please tell me! And don't forget your review :)  
First one centric: Kate and Sayid. Set somewhere in season 3, though not quite sure where… It has to be in the future, I guess, since there's no way to accommodate this story in what we've seen from season 3 so far (up to "Exposé" at the time of writing this). Some Jate, some Skate, and Kate/Sayid friendship._

_Disclaimer: LOST and its characters ain't mine, and I bow to their ingenious creators, Damon Lindelof and J.J. Abrams._

**ivviiixvxvixxiiixlii**

Kate wanted to run away from it all. From the hassle and the confusion, from the pain and the guilt, from the uncertainty and the fear. But most of all, she wanted to run away from the two men who were constantly battling for her heart. From her own contradictory feelings.

She wanted to run away from Jack and Sawyer. But of course, if she did, everything would get worse. She knew that unresolved matters between people were far worse than embarrassing or hurtful moments. No, she could not run away. She would have to make a choice.

But how?

Kate rested her chin on her knees and looked out over the ocean. The salty breeze blew into her eyes and made them water, and Kate made no effort to wipe the tears away. The tears caused by the wind mingled with the tears she silently cried.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

She was just about to sink into deep melancholy thoughts when she heard footsteps. Someone was approaching.

_Please, don't let it be Jack or Sawyer. I cannot talk to any of them at the moment._

Her prayers were heeded. The man who came closer, looked at her, and then without any further ado sat down beside her, was Sayid.

"Hey," Kate said and managed a faint smile. She did not know whether she was annoyed or relieved at his appearance. Was he intruding or was he saving her from something worse?

"Hey," Sayid replied, and a small smile curled his lips. Sayid had not smiled very often lately. In fact, he had not smiled very often since she knew him. It softened his face.

"What are you doing out here, all alone?" he asked.

Kate stared out over the ocean. "Thinking…" she replied.

Sayid did not talk for a while, but then he said, "I am well aware that it's none of my business, Kate, but I can see that something is eating you. And you know that talking to someone else can help… so if you want to…" He trailed off, looking at her.

Kate turned and looked at her fellow castaway. Sayid Jarrah, the soldier, the torturer, the man no one really seemed to know. Sayid Jarrah, the man who never lost his temper, never failed to come up with a solution when hope already seemed lost, never said the wrong thing. It occurred to Kate that although they had gone through pretty much together – as part of the group Charlie liked to call "The A-Team" – she barely knew Sayid Jarrah. And it surprised her to find out that still she trusted him.

Before she could do anything, the words spilled out of her.

"Have you ever loved two women at once, Sayid?"

If Sayid was taken aback at the question, he did not let it show. He calmly answered, "Indeed, I have. And it wasn't so long ago, either." A shadow seemed to fall over his face like a veil and his eyes seemed to get darker.

"How…" Kate stopped and bit her lips. She was going to ask how he had resolved the problem, but it had occurred to her that, if "not long ago" meant "recently", one of the women was probably Shannon.

Sayid had of course noticed her slip of the tongue and gave her a sad smile in return.

"Yes, one of them died, so I was spared from having to choose between them," he said quietly. "But by the time I lost her, I had already lost the other one, too. Only the feelings remained."

"Who is the other one?" asked Kate.

Sayid sighed. "Her name is Nadia. I've been looking for her for seven years. I was on that plane because I thought I had finally found her, but I know now that I've actually lost her the day the plane crashed."

"I'm sorry," Kate said quietly. "I had no idea…"

"It doesn't matter, Kate," Sayid said softly. "The pain will heal. It always does. You will make your choice eventually."

"I don't know how!" Kate wiped a tear away. "I don't want to hurt either of them."

"You already have," said Sayid. "I wish I wouldn't have to say that, but you know it's true. You didn't do it consciously, and I know that you didn't choose to feel the way you do, but by the fact alone that you haven't been able to make your decision yet, you've hurt them already." He softened his harsh words by reaching over and squeezing her hand. "But they also know that you're the one who's hurting most," he added. "They know you well enough to know that you're suffering. And that's why they forgive you. Both of them." He smiled. "Yes, I said both, and I mean both of them."

Kate had to laugh a little, but it turned into a sob. Sayid put an arm around her and pulled her closer to him, and she rested her head against his shoulder, grateful for the silent comfort he was offering her.

"One of them deserves you more," said Sayid. "But the other probably needs you more; more than he himself would ever admit. And the problem is that you connect with both of them. You understand both of them. You respect both of them. If I were you, I wouldn't know whom to choose, either."

"Who do you think loves me more?" Kate asked, her voice husky from the crying.

Sayid fell silent for a while. "This, I fear, is the only question I cannot answer you," he said eventually. "They are too different, and their kinds of love are too different, too. Sawyer would be more willing to fight for you. But Jack would never give you up." He sighed again. "No, Kate, it would be easy if I could make that decision for you. But I can't. You will have to wait and see, and one day your heart will give you the answer. Try and be patient, that's all I can tell you."

Kate lifted her head from his shoulder. "Thank you, anyway," she said, looking at him. "For… this."

Sayid bowed his head. "I offered you to talk, and in the end it was me who talked the most," he said with the hint of a smile. "But perhaps you'll find that something I said will indeed help you. Even if it might not seem that way now."


	2. Walt and Shannon

_A/N: The second installment in the "Moments" series. Centric: Walt and Shannon. Set at the end of season 1 somewhere during "Exodus," right before the scene where Walt leaves Vincent in Shannon's care._

**LOST Moments**

Shannon Rutherford was a spoiled and selfish young woman and could be scheming and bitchy, but in the end she had a good heart. And from time to time it irked her that Sayid seemed to be the only one on the island who knew that. All the others showed little or no interest in her. They looked at her once and judged her without ever trying to get to know her better.

Boone had known. God knows, she and Boone had been bickering like an old couple, but she had relied on him, and she missed him badly. Boone had known her a little better, and although she had tried to con him, he had not let her down.

Shannon shook her head, trying to shake off the memories. Her stepbrother was dead, and she had to deal with it.

Easy as that.

She briskly turned away from the grave and the makeshift cross only to discover little Walt standing a short distance away, watching her. Something in the kid's eyes made Shannon's flesh creep. He wasn't scary or anything, but his eyes looked way too old for a ten-year-old. Way too understanding.

"What are you doing here?" Shannon snapped at Walt. It sounded more aggressive than she'd intended it to, but she felt uneasy with him around. As if he'd been intruding on her. She was relieved that at least she hadn't talked to Boone's grave or anything.

"The raft's almost ready," Walt said, unperturbed by her unfriendliness. "I thought you might wanna come down to the beach and have a look. Everyone's coming."

"Oh. Yeah. I might. Why not." Shannon struggled to regain her usual demeanor. But somehow she knew that all effort was wasted on Walt. He knew exactly that she did not feel a bit as confident as she'd love to make everyone believe.

"It'll still be a few minutes," Walt said. "If you want a second to compose yourself, I mean."

"Compose myself…" Shannon repeated. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it, that a ten-year-old kid was telling her to _compose _herself.

"Yeah. I mean, you look a bit upset," Walt continued.

Shannon wanted to snap at him that her current state was none of his business, but found that she couldn't. Some part of her liked this kid, who seemed so much older than his years. Some part of her couldn't possibly be angry with a boy who had gone through all of this at such a young age.

"Thanks, Walt," she said. "I guess I'll come and see that you guys get on that raft safely." She even managed a crooked smile.

Walt waited until she had joined him, and side by side they went back towards the beach.

"Do you miss him?" Walt asked suddenly.

Shannon's face hardened.

"I miss my mom," Walt continued. "She died, you know. I was living with her in Australia, and when she died, my dad came to take me back to the U.S. That's why we were on that plane."

"My dad died," Shannon said, to her own surprise. "He was in an accident. And my stepmother hated me. So Boone was the only one left in the family I could rely on. So, yes, I miss him. More than I imagined I would."

She wondered why she was confiding in this kid. But Walt did not comment on anything she had told him. And besides – what if their mission was successful? What if they sailed out to sea and hit land somewhere else? They might never meet again.

Shannon slowed down when she could see the raft. "You guys have a safe journey," she said. "All the best, Walt." The smile she managed now was almost heartfelt.

Walt peered at her through eyes half closed against the sun. "You know what, Shannon?" he said. "I think I have something for you that might help when you're feeling lonely."


	3. Claire and Sun

_A/N:__ The third installment in the "Moments" series. Centric: Claire and Sun (and Aaron). Set somewhere in the second half on season 3, after "Exposé" but before "One Of Us"._

**LOST Moments**

"Claire?"

Claire looked up and squinted at the petite Korean woman who was standing before her with the sun at her back.

"Hi, Sun." She smiled. "How are you?"

"Fine," Sun replied absently, but her eyes betrayed her concern. She kept looking behind her, as if she was afraid that someone might eavesdrop on them.

Claire shifted Aaron from one arm to the other and focused her attention to Sun. Clearly something was eating her.

"Would you like to take a little walk?" she asked.

Sun looked relieved. "Yes, I'd like that," she said. The nervous glance she cast over Claire's shoulder told Claire that she did not want anyone to listen in on what she had to say, not even Charlie, who was rummaging around in the back of the tent. When he looked up and saw Sun, he seemed to pale for a moment and quickly looked away. Claire was taken aback, but she told herself she had probably imagined that. A trick of the sunlight, perhaps.

She got up, made sure she had a firm hold of Aaron, and they set off towards the water and along the beach.

Once they were safely out of earshot of the camp, Claire looked at Sun and waited. She knew that the other woman had something to say or ask, but she did not want to pry.

When Sun finally spoke, the revelation came as a surprise: "I'm pregnant."

Claire stared at her for a moment until the fact registered, then she smiled broadly and gave the other woman a one-armed hug.

"But that's great news, isn't it?"

"I don't know," Sun replied darkly.

Claire was confused. "Why?" she asked tentatively.

"Because this is all wrong," said Sun. "I mean… I know you had Aaron on this island, but I don't know if I want to have a baby here, maybe even raise it here if we don't get off again. And… I'm just scared," she finished. She looked at Claire, then at Aaron. "Help me, Claire. Tell me that being pregnant is a great thing, that it's the ultimate source of joy for a woman. Tell me that it's going to be okay…"

Claire did not know what to say. Eventually, she stopped and gestured Sun to sit down beside her in the sand. Then she lifted Aaron and handed him over to the Korean woman.

"Hold him on your knees for a while and let him look at you," she said softly.

Sun did as she was told. Aaron looked at her with his big blue eyes, curious but not alarmed. He knew Sun. Gradually, his small face broke into a wide smile and he beamed at Sun, reaching out his little hand to play with a strand of her hair.

Sun looked back at the little boy, inadvertently smiling herself.

"You see, Sun, it doesn't really matter that pregnancy can be hard sometimes," Claire said softly. "What matters is the reward you get. So in a way, pregnancy _is _the ultimate source of joy. Because you have nine months of looking forward to this." She reached over and patted her son on the head. Aaron uttered a cheerful little laugh.

"Hey, little man," Claire said playfully to him. "Take a good look at Auntie Sun. Convince her that she doesn't have to be afraid to be carrying a little miracle like you."

It was almost as if Aaron had understood her, because he looked away from his mother and back to Sun, and, beaming like the sun, reached out for her with both his little arms. Sun lifted him and held him to her chest, where he chuckled blissfully and awkwardly touched her neck and chin in what was probably meant to be some tender loving care.

Sun blinked a tear away.

"Are you still scared?" Claire asked quietly.

"Not as scared as I was thirty minutes ago," replied Sun with a smile. "Thank you, Claire." She gave Aaron a kiss on the top of his head. "And thank you, Aaron."

"It's all about the result," Claire said, taking Aaron back from Sun. "There will be moments when you wish you weren't pregnant; unfortunately I can't tell you anything else if you want the truth. There's morning sickness and belly aches and strange food cravings and swollen feet… but there's also the feeling of something growing inside you, something that's a part of you. You and Jin. And that makes up for a lot of things, believe me."

She was looking more at Aaron than Sun while she was speaking, and so she did not see the shadow crossing Sun's face when she mentioned Jin.

"I believe it does," Sun said slowly. "But there are other reasons to be scared, too. Especially on this island. What if the Others want to take my baby away, too?"

Claire was silent for a while. "We'll do everything we can to make sure they won't come anywhere near you," she said eventually. "Whenever you're ready, tell everyone. At least later when your belly starts to grow and you can't hide it any longer, anyway. We all will watch over you, Sun. Back then when Ethan kidnapped me, we were unprepared. But that won't happen again."

Sun nodded slowly. "Prepared…" she repeated. "Yes, I guess we all have to be prepared for whatever happens next."

"We will," Claire reiterated. "And when it happens, you know that we'll keep you safe."


	4. Desmond and Claire

_A/N:__ The fourth installment in the „Moments" series. This one centric: Desmond and Claire. This is taking place during "The Beginning of the End" – Charlie is dead and she already knows. Imagine there's a moment where no one has anything to do except wait, so Desmond can seize the chance to talk to Claire. I'm supposing that a similar scene might be coming up soon on the show, but I just couldn't wait to get my own turn on it… PB&J and Claire/Desmond friendship._

**LOST Moments – ****Desmond and Claire**

Desmond felt horrible. The excitement of the day, the many things that had happened, were now taking their toll. He felt weak to the bone. And although he knew that he should not compare them, he could not decide which was worse: that Charlie had drowned as predicted, or that it had happened preventing Desmond from talking to Penny.

_Penny…_

In all those endless days, the thought of Penny had kept him alive. It was almost as if they had to be apart for Desmond to realize how love really felt. How it hurt you when it was missing.

He could imagine all too well how Claire must be feeling right now. From what he had gathered, she and Charlie had loved each other dearly. Not in a friendship or summer fling kind of way, but in a very profound, mature way.

That only made matters worse.

Desmond's eyes clouded over. He swallowed back the tears; they would do him no good. But he felt he had to talk to Claire; he had the strong urge to explain exactly what had happened, to give her an account of the last heroic moments of Charlie's life. Besides, he had a message to deliver.

Clutching Charlie's "Greatest Hits" sheet in his fist, he set off, looking for Claire. He finally found her sitting on a rock. Hurley and Sun were with her. Sun was holding Aaron; her other hand lay on Claire's shoulder. Hurley was sitting on her other side, one arm around her, sobs heaving his massive body from time to time. Claire was sitting very still, her hands lying in her lap. Her face was almost white. A constant flow of tears ran down her cheeks, but she made no sound.

It was probably the saddest face Desmond had ever seen. For one moment, the coward in him surfaced, and he almost turned on his heel to run away. He did not want to face her grief, knowing that he was at least in part responsible for it. But he didn't run.

He stood there for a moment, waiting for someone to look up and see him. It was Hurley who finally did.

"Dude," he said hoarsely, and that one word, so familiar but spoken in such a heartbreakingly sad tone, was enough to almost push Desmond over the edge again. He defiantly swallowed and fought back the tears.

"Can I talk to her?" Desmond nodded towards Claire, who gave no reaction whatsoever.

Hurley and Sun exchanged a glance.

"Dunno, dude," Hurley finally said. "I mean, she's really shook up right now…"

"I won't be long," Desmond promised. "But there's something I've got to tell her. And something I've got to give to her, too."

"Oh… okay." Hurley gave Claire's shoulder a final squeeze and stood up. Sun followed. "I'm taking Aaron with me," she said to Claire before she left. "He'll be alright."

Claire's only reaction was a faint nod.

"Thanks, brother," Desmond called after Hurley. Then he inched closer. This white face gave him the creeps, but what was even scarier was that although Claire was crying, her breath went evenly and normal. She wasn't sobbing or breathing hard. There was only this constant flow of tears. Desmond suddenly wished she'd kick and scream; it would make everything a lot easier.

"Claire?" he said tentatively, stopping a few inches away from her. When she did not reply, he continued, "I'd like to tell you what exactly Charlie did. He saved my life down there, and then he sacrificed himself…" He trailed off, unsure whether to continue or not. But then he decided to plunge into it, and so he recounted everything that had happened down at the Looking Glass, every minute detail.

When he had ended, he was exhausted. It had almost been like living it all over again, like seeing Charlie again through the bull's eye in the door, conveying his last final message. And now the pain set in, hard. Desmond doubled over, reached for one of Claire's hands and pressed it against his face.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, unable to say anything else. "I'm so sorry…" He repeated it over and over again, as if saying it would somehow make it better, somehow soothe the pain he was feeling. His compassion for Claire was almost more painful than his own grief for Charlie.

After an eternity, Claire's hand moved. Desmond looked up, his vision blurred by tears. He found himself looking right into her eyes. She had stopped staring blankly at the ground.

"It's not your fault," she said quietly.

Desmond, who had expected anything but that, stared at her.

"It's not," Claire repeated. "Mikhail killed Charlie, not you. There was nothing you could have done. Charlie closed the door on you. You couldn't have done anything."

"It was because of me he was even down there," Desmond contradicted.

"He chose it himself," Claire said. "He volunteered to dive down to the station, and…"

"But he only volunteered because I told him he would die down there!" Desmond burst out, unable to keep this to himself any longer. "I saw it, Claire, way before Jack asked for volunteers. I saw him dive down, flip the switch, and drown… and I told him he had to do it, because otherwise you could never be rescued…"

Claire did not speak for a while. Nothing in her face gave away whether she was shocked, angry or just numb.

"I saw you and Aaron getting on a helicopter," Desmond continued quietly, still pressing her hand against his cheek. "I saw you getting rescued, and I told him, and that's why he volunteered to swim down there – because he knew he had to make it happen. And he knew he would die in the attempt."

Great relief washed over him when the words were out. He did not dare look up at Claire, who had gone very still once again. Yet she did not pull her hand away.

A single tear formed in Desmond's eye and rolled down his cheek, across Claire's hand, where it hung trembling for a moment before it dropped down to the ground.

"It was still his choice," Claire finally said, very quietly.

Desmond looked up at her. "But how could he not make this choice after what I told him?" he asked. "You know he would have done anything for you and Aaron, even die…"

"Well, and that's exactly what he did," Claire responded. "You ask yourself why I am not angry with you, Desmond, aren't you?"

Desmond simply nodded. "You would have every right," he said hoarsely.

"I'm not," Claire said simply. "You've given me proof that Charlie really loved me. Me and Aaron. I can't be angry at you or giving me such confirmation."

Desmond stirred and tentatively got up to his feet.

"I would have saved him," he said. "I tried. I tried so hard…"

"I know." Claire let go of his hand. "I know, Desmond. And I also know you would have saved him this time if he'd let you."

"Aye, I would," whispered Desmond. "I would."

He then remembered Charlie's "Greatest Hits" paper, which he had tucked away in his shirt pocket earlier. He slowly took it out and handed it to Claire.

"He gave me this before he went down there," he explained. "It's for you. Something to remember him by…"


	5. Jack and Claire

A/N: The fourth installment in the „Moments" series

_A/N:__ The fifth installment in the „Moments" series. This one centric: Jack and Claire (also featuring Kate, Aaron and Sawyer – sort of). The back story is taking place during the flash forward in 4x12, "There's No Place Like Home" (part 1), when Mrs. Littleton tells Jack that Claire is his sister. The flashback takes place in season 3._

_Upon learning that Claire is his half-sister, Jack remembers a __couple of moments they shared back on the island. Some Jate, too._

_Disclaimer:__ I admit I stole a literary trick from Stephen King's "It", namely the transition between the present and the flashback (you'll see what I mean). Thanks, Mr. King, for this excellent way of bringing a memory back to life. I wish I had thought of it myself…_

_And the characters aren't mine, either, of course._

**LOST Moments – ****Jack and Claire**

_Jack stood frozen to the ground even after Mrs. Littleton had left. It took him time to deal with the news that he did not only have a sister, but that he had spent more than three months together with that sister, __unaware that there was more that connected them but a plane crash and the fight for survival. How many times had they talked? How was it possible that the question of family had never once come up? How could you possibly not recognize your own flesh and blood?_

_Jack looked over to Kate, who was holding Aaron in her arms, and all of a sudden it hit him: _he's family, too! Aaron is my nephew!

_A look at Kate told him that she had figured it out even before he had. She was looking at him, a look on her face that was hard to describe.__ Without a word, she held out her arms, both for him to take Aaron from her and to offer him an embrace, should he want it._

_He did want it, both things she had to offer. His arms were trembling when he took the bundle from her that was Aaron, and tears came to his eyes when he looked down on the little boy, who looked cheerfully back at him. He knew Jack.__ He had known him from the day he was born. He was a familiar face, just like Sun or Hurley or even Sawyer._

_Jack cradled the little boy against his chest and cried, letting Kate hold him. Burying his face against her shoulder, he sobbed, "I never knew! I never knew, and I left her behind…"_

"_Shhh," whispered Kate. She did not really know what to say, because she knew that nothing she could say or do would ease the guilt Jack was feeling right now. "There was nothing you could possibly have done," she said eventually. "Sawyer had already been looking for her, remember?"_

"_Sawyer," Jack growled. "He would've left her behind happily the minute he found something more important to do."_

"_Don't be unfair, Jack," Kate protested. "It's true, his philosophy has always been every man for himself, but I think he has bonded with Claire nevertheless. Hurley told me that he'd been acting really protective around her in the end. Calling her 'sweetheart'," she added with a smile. "How's that for a nickname?"_

_Jack knew he was being unfair. Looking back, it became clear to him that Sawyer had really changed a lot during those months on the island. In fact, he had become valuable ally. Whenever there was trouble ahead, Sawyer was among the first to plunge into the danger. Him, and Sayid, and Jack himself, often followed by Kate, the skillful tracker. Yes, it did not surprise Jack that even Sawyer did all he could to protect the young mother and her son. And that made it even more unbearable._

"_My sister," he said again, his voice breaking. "I have a sister…"_

_Lifting his head from Kate's shoulder, he clutched Aaron tighter to him until the little boy gave an uncomfortable squeal. Quickly, he loosened his grip once again. "Now it all makes sense," he said quietly, more to himself than to Kate, who was tactful enough not to interrupt him and let him follow his own trail of thought. "I remember __one day when_

Claire was standing in front of the food shelves, Aaron on one hip. With the other hand she tried to reach a box of cereals that was on the top shelf just out of reach. Stubbornly, she stretched further, unwilling to admit she either needed some help or had to put Aaron down. The baby on her hip began to slide down and Aaron gave a warning wail. Swearing under her breath, Claire gathered her son up again and settled him down once again firmly on her hip.

"Now, little man," she said to him, "what are we going to do about Mommy's breakfast? Shall we give up, or shall we just keep trying?"

Aaron chuckled gleefully, and Claire smiled. "You're right," she said. "A real Littleton never gives up."

And she returned to reach for the box of cereals. This time, her fingertips brushed the edge of the box, and that only steeled her resolve. Inch by inch, she managed to move the box closer to the edge of the shelf.

Jack had been watching the whole scene with some amusement. But now he saw an accident coming and decided to intervene.

"Need some help, Mamacita?" he called in his best imitation of Sawyer's Southern accent.

Claire turned her head and laughed when she saw him. "I almost got it, thanks, Jack," she called back. She turned back to the shelf and kept fishing for the cereal box. It started to sway on the shelf, and Jack, seeing it coming, lunged forward. But he was too late. The box tumbled over the edge of the shelf, turned, and spilled its contents all over Claire and Aaron, and Jack, too, who had arrived only a fraction of a second too late.

Claire stood frozen for a moment, then she slowly turned to Jack. They looked at each other, each adorned with sticky lumps of Kellogg's that stuck to their hair and their clothes. Then laughter bubbled up inside Claire.

"You've got corn flakes all over you, Jack."

Jack, who was having a hard time himself not to crack up completely with laughter, reached up and plucked some out of his hair. He put it into his mouth and chewed it down.

"Pretty stale," he remarked wryly, and that did it for both of them: they burst out with laughter.

"You should have seen yourself," Jack spluttered, holding his side. "You were standing under the corn flakes as if you were taking a shower…"

"A cereal shower," Claire giggled, having a hard time not to drop Aaron, who was wiggling in her arms, trying to reach the cereals that were sticking all over his mother's clothes. "You have to do what you can."

Aaron shrieked and giggled and moved, and Claire almost lost her balance when she fought to retain the little boy. Jack, for the second time in only minutes, raced to the rescue, and this time he got there in time: before Claire could topple and fall down, he had her caught safely in his arms and held her until she had steadied herself again.

Still laughing, Claire tossed a streak of her long hair out of her eyes, and the _plop_ with which the lump of corn flakes attached to it hit her shoulder made them both laugh again.

Jack shook his head and gestured Claire to sit down. He plopped down on the sand, unable to speak. Claire sat down beside him and released Aaron, who happily amused himself trying to catch the flying bits of cereal.

Claire was still doubled over with laughter and rested her forehead on his shoulder for a moment. Without thinking about it, Jack slipped an arm around her shoulder. They sat there in comfortable silence, only interrupted by slight giggles from Claire and an occasional chuckle from Jack, but they were calming down now. Claire leaned against Jack's shoulder, exhausted.

"You know, Jack," she said, "it's moments like these when I almost forget that we're still lost on an island in the middle of nowhere. It's almost normal, sometimes."

Jack had to admit that he felt the same. This episode was so much like normal, everyday antics that it was really easy to forget that they were dead to the outside world, and that they had a powerful enemy very close by.

"I guess we should be glad we have moments like these," he said. "It makes the whole situation easier."

Claire nodded. "I guess you're right," she said. "But we've been very lucky, too. With you, a doctor, here – just imagine what would have become of me without your help…" She shuddered.

"Hey, don't think about that," Jack said gently. "You're fine, Aaron is fine, and Charlie watches over the two of you. And Aaron doesn't only have a stepdad, he has forty-odd aunties and uncles who are all completely in love with him." He winked at Claire and briefly stroked her cheek with his fingertips. "Just remember you should never give up the hope for rescue."

"I won't, if you won't." Claire smiled at him. "Thanks, Jack. For the laughter and for what you said." She leaned over and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Then she stood, gathered up Aaron and began to walk away in the direction of the camp.

Jack remained where he was and looked after her, smiling to himself. Claire was sweet and he liked her a lot, but it was nothing even remotely like physical attraction. He just felt very protective towards her.

Almost as if he was her big brother.


	6. Boone and Rose

A/N: The fourth installment in the „Moments" series

_A/N:__ The sixth installment in the „Moments" series. This one centric: Boone and Rose. This is taking place some time between "Whatever the Case May Be" and "Deus Ex Machina". Certainly at a time when Shannon and Sayid have already started bonding over Danielle's papers. And perhaps this snippet will explain what Boone's last words ("Tell Shannon…") would have been, if completed ;)_

_Disclaimer:__ As much as I'd love to have thought of it myself, I haven't: the lightning – flash analogy is courtesy of Stephen King (I believe it's from "It" but I'm not sure)._

**LOST Moments – Boone and Rose**

When Sabrina Carlyle broke the news to her son Boone that she was going to get married again and that he was going to have a sister, Boone was overjoyed. As an only child, he had felt lonely at times, what with his mother working all the time. And especially after what had happened to Theresa, he had a terrible fear of doing things wrong when he was alone. So the prospect of a sister, of someone to talk to and to be around, thrilled him no end. And despite his ten years, the fact that she was a girl did not bother him much.

So when Adam Rutherford and his daughter, Shannon, presented themselves in the Carlyle house for the first time, Boone was determined to make a good impression. But when he saw the eight-year-old girl, pretty, blonde, with a slight pout on her lips and wearing a simple white dress, his heart skipped a beat, and he turned to his mother and whispered, "Ma – is that an angel?" (Many years later, he would watch the "Spider-Man" movie for the first time, together with Shannon, and when Aunt May told Peter that he had said exactly the same thing about MJ when she moved in next door, the memory would wash back over him with such force that he averted his eyes to hide the flicker of emotions across his face.)

Of course, at age ten he _technically_ knew that angels didn't usually come into your house posing as your new stepsister. Any idiot knew that angels lived up in Heaven, hanging around on clouds all day playing harps, and when there was a thunderstorm, God would sometimes take pictures of them, and the flash of His camera was called "lightning" down here. But then again, you never knew…

He had never told her.

"Boone?"

Boone started up, abruptly waking from his musings. He looked up and looked directly into Rose's smiling face. Making an effort, he smiled back at her.

"Hey, Rose."

"Mind if I sit?" She did not wait for him to answer but sat down in the sand beside him.

The truth was that Boone _did_ mind a little, but he did not say so. He did not want to offend Rose. Besides, he figured that she probably knew. Rose tended to notice things everyone else overlooked. So he just moved a little bit to the side to make space for her and waited, because he was sure she had something to say.

But Rose did not say anything at first, she just sat beside him and looked out over the sea. Eventually, she spoke, without looking at Boone.

"My husband is still alive. I'm certain. I'd know if he wasn't."

Boone did not really know what to answer, so he settled for, "That's a comforting thought."

"It's not a thought, it's a certainty," Rose replied calmly. "He's here, somewhere on the island. And I know he's thinking of me, too."

Boone wondered what she was getting at.

"Do you know why I know that, Boone?" Finally, Rose looked at him. Boone shook his head. "Because we're connected. When two people love each other, and they know it, then they are connected in a way that they know when something bad befalls the other. I'm sure my Bernard also knows that I'm alive."

"You think that everyone who loves is connected in such a way?" Boone was skeptical. "It sounds like something very special to me."

"Isn't love something very special?"

That made him fall silent. After a while, he looked at the older woman. "But what if you don't have someone that special? Or if you love someone, but they don't love you back?"

A glint appeared in Rose's eye, and Boone blushed. He knew she knew that, in fact, he only wanted to know about the latter. And he had the uncomfortable feeling that she also knew exactly who he had in mind.

"If you sense a connection of whatever nature, that means they do love you back, Boone," Rose said gently. "It might be another kind of love, or it might not appear to be love at all, but let me assure you that's not true. They do love you back as best as they can. Maybe they're just not able to show it."

Boone nodded, smiling sheepishly. He knew very well that Rose hadn't used Shannon's name out of tactfulness, but now it felt almost ridiculous not to say her name when it was so obvious that they both knew exactly who they were talking about.

"She doesn't love me, she's only accustomed to me," he said bitterly. "I'm not sure she even likes me."

"I am," Rose said simply. "And if you think about it, you'll find that you know it, too. When push comes to shove, you're the one she runs to. You're the one she trusts most. And that sort of trust doesn't come out of nothing. There's got to be love there first to nourish it."

Boone reflected on her words for a moment. Was she right? Was he Shannon's confidant? He supposed it was true, but he also supposed that now that she had started to bond with Sayid, her loyalties were changing.

"Not anymore," he said. "She's moving on."

"Then you should do the same." Rose put a hand on his shoulder. "Be there for her when she needs you, and make sure she doesn't forget that. That way, she will also be there for you when you need her, because deep inside she feels that connection, too. And the fact that she's in love with Sayid doesn't change anything about that."

"Do you really think so?"

"Honey, I don't think, I _know_." And with a last, enigmatic smile, Rose stood and walked away.

Boone looked back over the ocean. He thought about Rose's words and found that, yes, he felt better. He understood that maybe he was underestimating Shannon. She always trusted in him, but he did not really trust in her. Maybe he should change that.

Shannon might not be an angel, but maybe he would tell her that when he first saw her, he thought she was.


End file.
